He reeked of grapefruit and rot. Of old things I’d buried long ago.
The scent shouldn’t exist.
And yet, here it was—dragging itself back into the world on his skin.
And if it was back … then so was everything I’d tried to kill with it.
Hauling the fractured human up the porch steps and through my front door, I carried him into the kitchen and placed him on the table. There, I cleaned him up as best I could, stitched the injuries on his back, then laid him down on my guest room bed.
While he rested, I kept myself busy with pointless tasks, trying to stave off the endless cycle of thoughts.
I decided he had one chance to explain himself.
If he didn’t?
I’d tear the truth from his bones and feed the rest to the trees.
He was unconscious for three days. And when he woke, he didn’t remember a goddamn thing. Not the blood. Not the scorched, dismembered corpses. Not even how he ended up bloodied, bruised, and naked in my guest bedroom.
Fucking useless.
Thane sat awkwardly on my couch while I gave him the basics of who I was—leaving out the part about being an ancient shadow monster—and how I found him, sparing no detail.
His face faltered as tears gathered in his emerald eyes.
“Although I have many questions for you, I would like to start with one that will determine your safety within my walls. Have you heard of the Disciples of Humanity’s Light?”
The blanketed figure curled up on my sofa looked obscenely frail, his chest rising and falling shallowly with every breath.
How the hell had he managed to kill that many Disciples?
“N-no, I don’t know what that is. It doesn’t sound familiar. Can they help me? I-I need to understand what happened.” His voice was hopeful, and his eyes shone with unshed tears.
“Absolutely not,” I snapped, the words laced with a snarl I didn’t bother softening.
Thane flinched, his eyes darting to me with uncertainty.
There it was.
That fucking look—the flinch, the fear, the confusion.
Humans always recoiled once the mask slipped.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to leash whatever monstrous thing had started pacing behind my eyes.
“Look, kid—”
“Thane,” he said, glancing up at me.
“Right. Thane. I’m not what you would call ‘nice.’ I don’t save people on the trail, and I sure as hell don’t invite theminto my home. I’m private, bad-tempered, and have no need for companionship. That said, I can’t just let you leave in your current condition.”
He doesn’t need to know the real reason I kept him here. There’s too much at risk, too many threads leading back to the Disciples.
He might be important, and for now, it’s smarter to keep him close.
Thane cleared his throat, then looked at me with wide eyes. “Thank you for not leaving me out there, but … you and I both know how you found me. What if I’m a murderer? I-I can’t remember …”
His voice cracked, and he sniffled as fresh tears slid down his stubbled cheeks.
